I, Lya
by GCRessa66
Summary: This story is going to be a little bit different. You are going to be hearing my story told by me. My name is Lya.


**Summary**: Hi! I'm Lya. I'm 2 years old. This is my story!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Lie to Me; just Lya.

**A/N** : AU. Callian Established. Post-series.

**A big thanks to Nonnie88. And a special thanks to SassyCop who took time to BETA this fiction. THANKS GIRLS !**

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**I, Lya, 2 years old, 33 inches**

This story is going to be a little bit different. You are going to be hearing my story told by me. My name is Lya. I just turned two, I'm not very tall yet and my skin is the color of chocolate.

A long time ago, I lived in a very large hut where the walls had gone yellow with wear and the ceiling was cracked in many parts. This place was always noisy, there were so many children who were screaming and crying it was hard to be heard over them. All around me I could hear deep voices, high-pitched ones, some adult voices and lots of children's voices.

The smell in the hut was nauseating; curdled milk mingled with of feces and vomit. A large lady who also had chocolate-colored skin took care of me most of the time. She held me in her arms, fed me and changed my diapers when they became soiled. I was lucky that I slept most of the time because when I was awake, I was particularly bored all alone in my bed. The lady would swaddle me from top to bottom so much so that I could hardly move my small arms and legs.

One day, while I stared at the ceiling of the room, a nice lady and a nice man bent over me. They looked ill with their very pale skin. I realized later their skin color was natural and that they were American. They had made a very long journey just for me. Despite her pale looks, the lady was beautiful. Her face was sprinkled with freckles. Her eyes misted over with tears were as blue as the ocean; a blue which I love to plunge myself into. Her pink lips were stretched by a big smile that revealed her white teeth. She seemed a little hesitant when she picked me up. I never felt this content with the large lady who usually took care of me. I looked up to see her smile get brighter as she looked to the man next to her. All I could feel was warmth, warmth from her arms, her body and her smile. I buried my face against her chest and closed my eyes, feeling relaxed and calm and happy.

When I woke up some time later, I was no longer in the noisy room full of children. I was still in the arms of the lady that was holding me before I fell asleep, we were in a different room, it was bright and the ceiling wasn't cracked. She was sitting on a bed. She looked down and smiled at me. The man who was with her was leaning over her shoulder, looking equally as happy as she was. Slowly, the nice lady turned her head to him and asked him if he wanted to hold me. He nodded eagerly and she gently handed me over to him. I expected a rougher, harder, tenser contact with this man, but I was surprised that he was gentle and firm and felt like the cocoon I had just left, I felt safe there. I took advantage of this moment and really observed him. He seemed slightly older than the nice lady. His face was marked by a few wrinkles. He had kind, brown eyes. His voice sounded strange, _because of a certain accent I think_.

After a few minutes, the pleasant smell of warm milk invaded the room. My little belly immediately started to growl. I saw the nice lady offer a small bottle to the pale man. Comfortably situated in his arms, I parted my lips to catch and suck the bottle.

Once my stomach was full, the nice lady took me in her arms and went to the bathroom. While she changed me, I heard her whisper:

_One… Two… Three…_

_Four… Five…_

_Six… Seven… Eight…_

_Nine… Ten…_

One by one, she had just recounted each of my ten tiny fingers. They were so thin, so small and yet so perfect, ending with ten even tinier nails. She seemed to fight the urge to let her finger slide on every part of my face. The curve of my nose, the almost invisible line of my eyebrows, my small forehead, my lips… She eventually gave in and her index finger barely touched the soft skin of my cheek. While I enjoyed her attention, I turned my head in the direction of the door and I saw the man. He was leaned up against the door frame. He seemed to be in silent contemplation of his wife. She lifted her head up when she felt his eyes on her. When their eyes met, they exchanged a loving smile of complicity, and then once again the nice lady took me in her arms and gently put me back in my cradle. I felt asleep almost immediately.

That was what happened when I first met my parents.

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Today, I'm two years old and I live with them in a large city called Washington. The nice lady is named Gillian Lightman and she's the best mom ever! The nice gentleman is my super daddy and answers to the name of Cal Lightman! They are both the founders and bosses of a group called "the Lightman Group." They are specialized in lie detection.

When we arrived in the United States a few weeks after our first meeting, I discovered that I had a big sister, Emily Lightman. I remember the first time I saw her. She had come to pick us up at the airport. First, I thought she was weird. She didn't seem to be able to stop fidgeting. She repeated again and again: "Gillian, let me see her! I want to see her! Please?" I didn't know who she wanted to see but it seemed very interesting. I finally understood that it was me she was talking about when Dad explained to her that I was asleep and that she would have all the time to get to know me better once we were at home. Good for me, because huddled up against my mother's breasts, rocked by her regular heartbeats, I had no desire to move! We got into a vehicle and we went to the "house." I wondered what a "house" could look like. I had only ever lived in a crowded room located in a slum.

After a short ride, daddy parked in a quiet residential street. While he helped Emily get the luggage out of the trunk, mommy rested against the car and scrutinized the house. Eventually, Dad approached her, slid his hand around her and pulled her closer to him. Together they walked slowly to the front door. I could feel mommy's heart rate speed up against my ear. She must have been nervous. Just before she crossed the threshold, mommy stopped abruptly. She looked at me, gently kissed my hair, and with a lump in her throat, she has whispered: "Here we are, my baby, we're finally at home." Gently, slowly, as to enjoy the moment a little longer, she entered and closed the door behind her.

A few moments later, the energy changed! How could mommy do THAT to me? How could she leave me in the hands of this young overactive girl? To be honest, I was terrified when mommy held me out to Emily. I was afraid she would let me fall. But no, everything went well.

Since that day, I have spent a lot of time with Emily. She takes her big sister role very seriously. She takes care of me when mom and dad are at work. We play together, she helps me take my bath and takes advantage of the situation to tickle me, and she reads me stories before bed…

Something else about Emily… She doesn't have the same mom as me. Hers is called Zoe, but she is not as loving and affectionate as my mom. In fact, I am not sure I understand how Emily can be my sister if we do not have the same mommy. I really need to ask mommy about that when I'm be older.

For two years I have been growing up with this extraordinary, gentle, affectionate, calm, loving mommy, and this wonderful, cuddly, loving dad. They are so devoted to each other. I am so pleased to have been chosen by this family - my family.

Some day when I get older, mommy said that we would return to South Africa so I can discover the country where I was born. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy each day, surrounded by people who love me and that I love the most in the world.

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THE END ;)

Hope you enjoyed this short one shot !


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